Bloodlines
by Charlotte Theirin
Summary: In Ferelden, Alistair is about find out that blood is not as powerful as he's been led to believe, and the re-emergence of Nathaniel Howe presents all sorts of trouble for the Theirin royals.


**Chapter 1**

Defeat was just the beginning, far from the end. If Alistair had known from the start, then he would certainly not have taken so many chances, let Elissa get her way so much with him. But what could he do now, when he'd already promised her the world?  
>"You know it only gets tougher from here, right?" he asked her on the third morning he woke next to her. Still he was not used to the drapes and curtains, the pillows and blankets which had grown to be so much more elegant than he had ever anticipated. It seemed a million miles away from the life he'd lived- or perhaps survived would be more accurate- over the past few months.<p>

Elissa turned to face him, his arms still wrapped tightly around her waist. He mouth turned into a soft smile and she nodded. Oh, how pretty she looked, as she lay there in his arms, bathed in the warm summer light that was streaming through the windows.

"I'll always be on your side."  
>Alistair smiled uncertainly in reply and pulled her closely to his chest.<br>"And I will always be on your side, my love." He proceeded to kiss her body, the thin, strong and beautiful body that he had seen so frequently, but so rarely in its full 'd known for so long, so sure of it, and yet he couldn't have brought himself to say it before now. Not sincerely. "I love you, Elissa." His words left his lips in barely more than a whisper, and his cheeks blushed heavily. His blue eyes stared lovingly into Elissa's eyes of deep, ocean turquoise and he felt a lump catch in his throat. How long he had waited to say those words.

Lights lit up in Elissa's eyes, as she moved around to him, her body facing his. Alistair moved his hands across her delicate skin as she came towards him and he felt her breath on his chest. She lifted her face up to his and kissed his gentle lips with her soft, warm mouth.

"I love you, too. My Alistair."

She kissed him, pulled him close and they felt their bodies press against one another, the warmth, the clean and the delicate bodies they had felt so many times before, but never so kindly, never in such a way that they felt comfortable with; not with having lived in dirt and blood, in sweat and tears, on the forest floors. "And I always will."

"King Alistair!" the crowd cried, watching their young King take the throne. He resembled Cailan so much, just as fresh faced, just as innocent. Yet there was no denying the superior experience which Alistair possessed. Few King's could sit upon the throne and honestly claim that they had taken on an Arch Demon almost-singlehandedly. Indeed, few King's could even claim to have taken on an Arch Demon at all!

Alistair smiled down at his people, at his Kingdom, and a warm rush of pride washed through him. He felt himself blushing once more, and made a mental note to stop that. He was King now, after all. He couldn't be so bashful anymore.

Beside him, dressed beautifully in green and gold, her hair securely fastened in a plaited bun atop her head, Elissa slipped her hand into his. It spoke of comfort, of love and of support, a sign that she would always be there him, and he squeezed it, pulling her closely towards him. He was sure that anything that he would say now would be the right thing to say. Elissa's blessing made it so.

"People of Ferelden," he cried calmly. "This land was once lost, taken by the Darkspawn, threatened by those who claimed to care. I promise that, so long as I am on this throne- so long as I rule over Ferelden- that Denerim, that Redcliffe, that Highever, Honnleath, Lothering and as far as Gwaren, will never fall to the Blight undefended again. I, personally, will see to this!"

A round of applause erupted, cries from the crowd echoed and then the King clapped his hands once more.

"What is more," he announced. "Treason, against the King, against the Cousland family, and treachery against any other family, will not be tolerated. To win a bannorn, or a teyrnin, will only result in your own downfall. You have been warned."  
>Silence ensued as the crowd looked around at one another. From the back of the crowd, stood beneath the gates of Denerim themselves, Nathaniel Howe stood grand and tall. He had come to greet this great King, and his betrothed who had killed his father. Alistair locked eyes with him for the briefest of seconds, but even without the personal connection, Nathaniel knew that the warning was for him. For it was his own family- his father- who had taken the Couslands at Highever, and it was he who was left to fend for himself.<p>

The King bowed and looked beside him to Elissa, who was smiling up at him again with an unbelievable pride. Her lips parted slightly, her nose pointed upwards in the smooth way it did, Alistair bent down to kiss her, unresisting of her natural beauty.

The crowd roared with delight and excitement. This beautiful lady was to be their queen, this beautiful couple were to enrich Ferelden with what must surely be the most handsome children to ever grace the earth they walked upon. They thanked the maker for his gift, as the royal couple left the balcony and returned to the castle.

With a final, bitter smirk, Nathaniel Howe turned and walked away, retiring once again to the cellar he had occupied since his father's treachery.

To say that life for Alistair had settled down wasn't true, despite his hopes and dreams. He thought that once he'd defeated the Arch Demon, everything would return to normality,that being the King would just mean an extra bit of attention, and life could be private and safe once more.

It was with his first meeting with his soon-to-be brother-in-law, Fergus Cousland who would bring him the otherwise news.

"I'm afraid, your Highness," he began solemnly. "That already, plans for your assassination have been called. Some people, those poor sods, are detesting the illegitimate son of Maric as their ruler."  
>"Poppycock!" Alistair cried in disgust. "I've done no wrong to them. Did I... I mean, your sister and I... not just save their sorry hides?"<p>

It had been Elissa who had proposed that Fergus lead Alistair's political affairs, as guide. For who could let a hero, no matter how little his part, be left without a reward: and serving the King was the highest reward of all. One would expect that anybody in such a position would be honoured.

And Fergus was, for he needed something- anything- to distract him from his own personal loss. Howe may have killed his wife and his son, and of course, he was devastated. Yet what confounded him more, was the sheer cruelty of the treachery. To kill a _child_? Fergus was physically disgusted, as seemed most of the civilians upon the announcement.

"It is most true, your highness. I have, I hoped you do not mind, authorised the twenty-four hour protection of the castle, with the best of my army to protect you, but I assure you the threat is quite real."

Alistair sighed. Less than a week of being King, and already, his death was imminent once more.

"As you wish, Fergus," he exasperated, exhausted, tired and above all, fed up with the role he had to play. He knew Elissa had reason to elect him onto the throne (apart from Anora's obvious deceitfulness) , and he felt no bitterness towards her. However, he did, often, feel as though she was misguided in her judgement, perhaps more longing for the higher stature herself. But he just couldn't feel bad about Elissa, no matter what.

They'd been through hell, and been dragged back up with Styx and they couldn't be apart, no matter how they tried.  
>Heck, the hours he'd spent away from her when they were fighting the final battle had been painstaking enough, and whenever she elected not to have him accompany her on a mission, his heart had broken with the notion that this time, she might not return.<br>"I did not expect such drama so early on, I must confess. Do you have any ideas as to who is behind the threats?"

"We expect some loyal supporters of Loghain, your Highness. The truth of the matter could be far different. We will further investigate, your Highness."  
>Alistair bowed his approval.<br>"Thank you," he bade, as Fergus took his leave. "Oh, and Fergus? Please, call me Alistair."  
>"As you wish, your High- Alistair." He bowed as he left through the doors, large and heavy, shutting with a clattering bang, and then Alistair was alone, head in hands, stress marks visible on his forehead. He'd expected it to be a tough ride, but nowhere near as tough as it was proving.<p>

As night was falling, Alistair found himself climbing into bed alone, Elissa still gossiping with Leliana in the courtroom, talking about shoes and dresses, hats and Orlesians. He knew Elissa longed to go to Orlais, for Leliana had expressed her deepest desires for the place, yet it seemed that for now, at least, there'd be some dilemma with getting there.

"The Wardens won't let anybody pass as of yet," he had heard Leliana announce earlier in the evening. "I think they're waiting for some news from Ostagar, but, well, of course they'll hear nothing."  
>"Surely they know what happened to Ostagar, now, Lel," Elissa had replied. "Could it not simply be that they are just confused as to how to proceed?"<br>"Could be, but who will give the orders? There is no Commander of the Grey anymore. Not since Duncan-"  
>And then he'd been forced to leave. The pain of the loss was still raw whenever he thought of it. The Blight may have provided a distraction, but distraction didn't rid grief. For grief to pass, to suffer must first be felt. Distractions were no good.<p>

He lay there, facing the ceiling, watching the stars through the small vent he'd put in, to let the warm air out. Perhaps he would soon regret it, but the heat of the castle had been a shock to the system- he'd almost forgotten how cold it had been out in the tents until he returned to the civilised world.

He must have drifted off, thinking of the journey he had endured: the fighting, the falling; the loss and the death; the sacrifices and the love... oh the love he had found.

She pounced on him when she entered the room, clearly tipsy from a few too many glasses of wine with Leliana, but she could hold her alcohol... she thought.

"Good darling evening to thou!" she cried, crashing onto Alistair's chest and causing him to cough, winded. "How are you my dandelion?" Giggling hysterically, she move up his chest and kissed him on the forehead.

"Fine," he replied shortly. "I'm fine."

Elissa frowned.

"Is that all? You're not..." she leant in closely to whisper. "In the mood?" Elissa winked suggestively and waved her hand in front of her face, as though a fire had been blazing and she was to waft away the smell.

"I'm... Elissa, what are you doing?"  
>When Alistair looked back up, he was astonished to see Elissa pulling her dress over her shoulders and throwing it onto the floor.<br>"Oh, yes, the door!" she exclaimed, hitting herself in the face. "Silly Lissy, forgetting the door!" Of him she clambered and walked to the door, slamming it shut and pulling the bolt across it. She was wearing only her underclothes now, and Alistair tried very hard to keep his eyes off her. Shaking his head, he sat up and looked at her.  
>"You're drunk," he said softly, with a slight laugh. "Come on, sleep time."<br>Elissa giggled and as she climbed back into bed, she made sure to grab Alistair by the waist, pulling around so he was almost on top of her.

"Maybe, but you're delicious," she declared, licking her lips. "Come, now. Let's get you out of those trousers."

Alistair rolled his eyes. He undid the ties on the front of his trousers and then pulled them off, flinging them so they were on top of the crumpled dress. He began to unlace Elissa too, as she began to groan.  
>"You're more delicious," he moaned in response, as he moved his body down, kissing her.<br>Together, they moved and groaned letting their love fill the room, and, for just a moment, they forgot about their troubles, knowing little of the deceit that was going on in the cellar, just three floors below them.

Little did they know, this could be the last time they would be so intimate, before once more, their worlds came crashing down around them, splintering beyond repair.

And this time, it wouldn't be so easy to repair.


End file.
